


Finding Hank

by WritingIsMyCoffee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, in which hank watches finding nemo with connor and is sad for obvious reasons, very much father/son relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingIsMyCoffee/pseuds/WritingIsMyCoffee
Summary: It had been 183 hours, 3 minutes and 17 seconds since The Incident that caused Hank to put distance between him and Connor. Now, his android partner is determined to fix things.





	Finding Hank

**Author's Note:**

> This was written based on a prompt from a DBH discord I'm in. The prompt: connor and hank watching finding nemo/finding dory together

At 7:00 PM EDT, Connor finds himself stepping out of his police precinct at the exact time his shift ends, his partner/roommate Hank Anderson close in tow. At 7:01 PM EDT, Connor climbs into the passenger seat of Hank’s vintage automobile and buckles himself in. At 7:02 PM EDT, Hank takes his own seat and buckles himself in, only for Connor to rip the car keys out of the ignition and hold his thumb over the lock button.

The two of them have been at work for over twelve hours because of a case, the temperature is a whopping 29° Fahrenheit, and now they are trapped in the DPD’s parking lot.

“What the _fuck_ Connor?”

Connor tucks the hand holding Hank’s keys hostage into his pocket to avoid having them snatched away. He ignores the hostility of Hank’s question, forcing himself to remain calm despite the heightened stress levels he has experienced for the past 183 hours, 3 minutes and 17 seconds.

“This is an interrogation, Lieutenant. I am going to ask you a series of questions and then we may go home.”

“Connor, I am _this close_ to kicking you out of the car,” Hank warns, pressing two fingers together to greater prove his statement. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your bullshit right now.”

“How would you, metaphorically, kick me out of the car if I can control whether or not you can open the doors?” Connor questions.

There is steam curling out of Hank’s ears, but the lieutenant crosses his arms with a huff regardless. “Fuck, fine. The sooner I answer, the sooner I get my ass back on my couch. _Go_.”

Straightening his back, Connor abandons the keys in his pocket to straighten out his tie before starting. While his demeanor seems calm and collected, he can feel his thirium pump twisting in agony. The list of questions he has prepared have taken nearly every 183 hours, 3 minutes and 17 seconds that has passed since The Incident; if his plan goes off the rails, Connor has no backup questions to fall on.

All he does know is he’s sick of the distance Hank has put between them. Things need to change and they need to change now, or Connor will literally self-destruct.

“Is there a reason you have been avoiding interaction with me?”

Hank scoffs. “Seriously? We fucking live together, Connor. I can’t go take a shit without bumping into you.”

“For the past 183-for the past week and nearly two days, you have been giving me significantly less attention and our level of verbal communication has dropped fifty-six percent.”

“So what, you’re lonely?”

 _Yes._ “No, I simply wish to know why this has happened, and my series of questions is to help uncover the reason. Now, is the reason you have been avoiding me because of The Incident?”

Hank looks at him as if he has a horn growing out of his head. “What _Incident_?”

“Lieutenant, ever since we watched Finding Nemo, your heart rate has increased rapidly, signifying an increase in your own stress, which in result has triggered mine. Such behavior seems…unusual since most Disney movies we have watched in the past have resulted in your mood _improving_ , and us bonding more as friends.”

The older man stays oddly silent, turning his head to look out his side window. He puts a hand over his jaw and refuses to acknowledge the statement.

Connor may still have difficulty interpreting, feeling, and dealing with emotions despite being a deviant for almost a year, but he can sense the true sorrow hidden underneath Hank’s temper. He himself softens his cold gaze and slouches slightly in his seat.

“Hank, I know the plot point of that movie upset you…and I know why it did.”

His partner sighs heavily, closing his eyes and open them glossier than before. “Congrats, Sherlock. You cracked the case. Now give me the damn keys.”

The thirium coursing through Connor drains out of him. “Hank-“

“ _I said give me the damn keys!_ ”

Sensing his loss, Connor digs into his pocket and hands the keys over to Hank with a heavy pump. He keeps his eyes on his shoes as Hank turns the ignition key in its slot and the car roars back to life. An influx warning appears in the corner of his vison, and before Connor can dismiss it artificial tears blur out his vision. He blinks them away as a reflex, but that only causes them to cascade down his face. It’s when he tries to swiftly wipe them away that Hank takes notice, right as they pull out of the parking lot.

“Oh Jesus,” Hank swears. Abruptly, he slams on the breaks, cutting off Gavin who is right behind them. Despite the other detective’s honking, Hank takes his time carefully pulling the car around and pack into its parking spot. He pulls the gear into park, takes out the keys for the second time in the past few minutes, and turns to Connor.

“I’m sorry. That…that wasn’t necessary. I’m an asshole, okay?”

To his surprise, Connor sniffs, despite not having lungs and a stuffy nose to concern himself with. “I just…I just wanted you to treat me as you did before. The movie is deeply personal to you, but…b-but I didn’t think it would tear us apart like this.”

Hank releases a long breath. He puts a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder. “It shouldn’t have, and that’s on me. You didn’t do anything wrong Connor. It’s my fault. I…I chose to watch the movie…I thought I was ready, but obviously _not_.”

He lifts his hand up to wipe away the fresh tears streaming down Connor’s face, causing his younger counterpart to turn to him.

“Hey, it’s just a movie. Because of you, I’m learning that things can _just be_ a movie. I’m eating healthier, drinking less, and…I’m a better person because of you overall. You’re _damn important_ to me, Connor, and…a-and I should’ve known better than to push my son away like that. Me of all people…I’m…”

They lock eyes, their irises wide and their minds at a standstill over a certain three-letter-word. Hank tears up immediately, wiping his eyes rapidly as he fails to compose himself.

“Damnit. Damnit. I’m not even drunk and I’m this weepy. God, I just- _fuck_.”

Connor leans forward in his seat, already reaching out an arm to comfort his partner before Hank unexpectedly throws his arms around him. The two collapse into a sobbing heap, both of them releasing all the anxiety and agony puling them apart from the seams for the past 183 hours, 8 minutes and 9 seconds. Now, they are 43 seconds into the next step of their lives.

When they finally part, Hank’s face is flushed red and Connor’s blue. The older man runs a sleeve underneath his nose, ducking his head almost bashfully.

“Ugh, I hate crying. It makes me feel gross and…sappy.”

Connor laughs, a slight hitch to his voice. “At least you don’t have to clear out your internal filters, dad.”

It slips into the conversation so casually, so effortlessly. It makes Hank beam with something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

Love.

Hank turns the car back on as Connor leans back into his seat, the shine of his tears catching the final rays of the setting sun. Warm air comes through the car’s vents, soothing him like a comforting blanket as his stress levels drop far below the line of combustion. A quick scan reveals the slowed beating of Hank’s own heart as well.

“How about we watch Finding Dory when we get home?” Hank asks as he pulls out into the road. The traffic is sparse, as if the universe cleared every commuter and bad omen out of their path.

Connor smiles, meeting Hank’s gaze int eh rearview mirror. “I’d like that.”

As they drive on down the road, the sun sets calmly behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
